


Count My Cards (Watch Them Fall)

by AniseNalci



Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: And Princess Jaslen, Character Study, F/M, Including Sheltered Princess, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Mystery, Pre-Summit, really bad poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 18:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniseNalci/pseuds/AniseNalci
Summary: Pre-Summit. A young lady of the Corval Inner Court is tasked with solving the mystery of a Corval Princess' mysterious suitor, who apparently writes the most scandalous lovesick letters.





	Count My Cards (Watch Them Fall)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the vignette in the game where it is revealed that Corval Lady had dealt with the mystery of who was sending lovesick letters to one of the princesses. A bit of an expansion of the scene, which I've set shortly after the last summit (Crown Prince Aamir has only been married to Princess Constance for 2 months).
> 
> Unbeta'd so feel free to point out mistakes; I was half asleep writing this.  
> Title is from 'you should see me in a crown' by Billie Eilish.
> 
> For what it's worth, here is the character guide:  
> \- Lady Layla: Corval Lady  
> \- Lady Merve: Corval Lady's mother, and the Empress' favourite  
> \- The Empress: The Empress of Corval (and the Emperor's first wife)  
> \- (Crown) Princess Constance: Sheltered Princess' sister and the canon wife of the Crown Prince Aamir (Prince Zarad's eldest brother) who he met and married during the last summit (i.e. 7 years before the game)  
> \- Princess Nadia: One of the royal princesses. OC used since we only know about Sina and none of the other princesses (and Sina is definitely too young).
> 
> (Also, sorry, Prince Zarad doesn't appear. Tbf, it's canon that they run in very different circles so...)

Her mother was at her usual seat, next to the Empress of Corval, in the luxurious parlour of the high tower. It was the usual time the Empress took afternoon tea, and usually only a select few ladies of court would be requested to attend. They all sat to the Empress at her side, some next to her at the sofa (where she sat in the middle, of course), and the less favoured ones sat in chairs pushed next to the wall, forced to hold their own teacups.

“Welcome, child. I am glad to see you punctual. It behooves well of you.”

Lady Layla resisted the urge to look at her mother for support, knowing that it could be used against her, either to besmirch her name or endanger her mother if someone wished her to do something that was not a little unsanctioned and quite possibly treasonous. What these summons could be for, she could hardly imagine. The machinations of the Inner Court were a mystery to many, and she had not been around nearly as long.

Her posture somewhat acceptable, she forced herself to remember the minutiae detail involved when attending the Empress, and curtseyed appropriately. The gown she wore was one of her finer silks, embroidered with tiny jewels at its hem. It had been a gift from the Empress to her on her sixteenth birthday, and it was a fitting dress to wear when summoned expressly by the Empress.

She rose from her curtsey, a second too early, and looked up to see the Empress looking over her with an impenetrable gaze. She had not thought that anyone would notice, but her mother frowned for a second or two before she too hid her face behind an inscrutable mask. This was the Inner Court, after all, and every woman was for herself. Sink or swim, as the Hisean adage went.

“Lady Layla, you look very… becoming in that dress.”

Layla willed herself not to display any emotion, but inwardly she was flushing. It was a comment against her looks in the most polite manner. _Becoming_? Oh, she was perhaps more bookish than most, and perhaps her talents did not lie with the superficial, but she was not unattractive, she thought. After all, her father was no ogre, and she had been told as a child that she inherited her mother’s understated beauty, a perfect asset for the Inner Court. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied, softly, “I do not forget your many kindnesses.”

Like the fact that her mother’s marriage was one sanctioned by the Empress. The Empress had picked her father out as a suitable candidate for her mother’s hand. When they did not produce a child as hastily as expected, it was the Empress who ordered her parents to be examined, under the guise that she only wanted her dearest subjects to be happy and fulfilled with a child in their household; although Layla could think of nothing more humiliating that to advertise her parents’ fertility issues in court. When she was born, after nearly eight years of marriage, she was whisked away, to be raised with the royal princes and princesses and the children of nobility closest to the throne, for she was to be brought up as an asset for the Inner Court. Her life was centred around the Inner Court, and Her Majesty had arranged it that way.

Her mother had not had a choice, due to her family circumstances. She was forced to survive here. Unfortunately, she had resigned her daughter to the same fate, as much as Layla wished otherwise.

The Empress smiled indulgently at her. “You are a sweet child, my dearest, and such a good friend to the royal daughters of court. You shall be a jewel here, much like your loyal mother. I can remember you as you were a baby, you know, and I declared then that you should be a wonder to behold. And I know you will prove me right.”

“Your Majesty is far too kind. I am humbled by your praise.”

“I know you will succeed in whatever task you are held up to.”  

At this one of the ladies seated next to the wall tittered, but a sharp look from the Empress ensured that silence reigned. Lady Layla sympathised with her. She, too, knew what those words meant. She would be requested to do something. She only hoped that it would not prove too horrible and unethical.

“What whisperings have you heard in the Inner Court, my dear? Specifically as it pertains to… romance?”

This was a trick question, if Layla ever knew one. The Inner Court of Corval was always buzzing with one scandal over another. If she revealed too much, she would definitely become a target, or the other ladies could use information that had been more carefully concealed for their own nefarious purposes. If she did not reveal enough, she would be perceived as stupid, and her mother would lose face and potentially earn the Empress’ ire, in that someone groomed to be a perfect asset of the Inner Court was a fool.

Therefore, she needed to deduce what the Empress wanted. The Empress likely knew every lady of court or courtier’s indiscretion; she probably arranged for it, manipulated them into it, and was blackmailing them. It likely wasn’t about the Crown Prince and his new wife from the summit, a fair princess from Arland, although there was much to say about that. The Empress could not care about her sons’ dalliances, or even the dalliances of her fellow Consorts’ offspring, although for the latter, she would rather pretend that they did not exist. Her daughters’ affairs of the heart, on the other hand…

“Is this about the rumors of Princess Nadia’s admirers?”

The pleased look in the Empress’ face proved that she had surmised correctly. “Indeed! Though it is no surprise that my daughters are universally admired, I must admit some consternation with regards to the current situation.”

“You are referring to,” Layla paused, knowing there was no delicate way to phrase it, “the scandalous nature of the most recent love letters?”

“Have you read them, then?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Layla demurred. “I only can speak from what I saw. I was there when she received the first one, during her poetry reading two weeks ago. She thought it to be another poem for us to read, and was mortified after reading the first few lines aloud. She was quite distressed and afraid. I did not dare read the rest of its contents, for I do not make it a habit to peruse others’ personal correspondences unless it is a duty. Even so, Her Highness was so overwhelmed by the audacity of those letters, that I did not believe it necessary to read them to know that the author overstepped their bounds, nor that the content was inappropriate for me to read.”

“Your prudence and discretion serves you well, my darling child. It is for this reason that I have a request to make of you.”

“You honour me with your trust, Your Majesty.”

“These letters have not desisted. If anything, the author has grown too daring and bold in persisting with his suit. He cannot be an honourable suitor, for no honourable suitor would be anonymous, nor would he send such disgusting letters and persist in this harassment.” Her Majesty gave her a sharp look. “Princess Nadia is reluctant to have me involved, but we cannot allow this to continue. The younger generation are fools if they do not seek assistance where they can, but younger folks always have this ridiculous notion that they know better. I should know, I was a young woman myself.”

There was a pregnant pause, lasting only a few minutes, but it felt like eternity to Layla. “Your Majesty, please forgive me for my presumption and rectify my mistakes if I am wrong, but am I correct in presuming you would like me to ensure this business halted?”

The Empress bestowed upon her an indulgent smile. “But of course, child. And please, do hurry. You may start immediately, of course.”

Lady Layla curtseyed, this time remembering the exact second she was supposed to rise, and with as much grace as she could muster, tried not to flee from the room.

 

* * *

 

The next day, rumours were abuzz with the fact that one of Princess Nadia’s retinue had been chosen to investigate the letters. Some said it was her, some claimed it was one of the many other young ladies in Princess Nadia’s retinue.

 _Very intelligent_ , Layla thought to herself. _Either the Empress has spread these rumours to prevent Princess Nadia from punishing the specific lady chosen, or the Empress has chosen all of us, in a test of sorts. Either way, Princess Nadia cannot punish all of us, and her not knowing who we are will make it difficult for those who would hinder us from our investigation._

Princess Nadia often had a poetry session in the afternoons, held for the younger ladies of court. She was often joined by the other Princesses of the Palace of all ages; those by birth, and those by Marriage. Occasionally she was joined by the Crown Princess Constance, formerly of Arland, who was one of the few who could claim both. This session, the very next one after the rumours began, Princess Nadia looked at everyone suspiciously, except the Crown Princess. Everyone knew that Crown Princess Constance, only two months into her marriage, was unlikely to be of any influence in the court, given that she was wan and tended to stay within the women’s quarters of the Palace, rarely deigning to attend to business within the malevolent Court.

 _The Crown Prince is a cruel husband to her, ambitious and ruthless, caring more for Corval than is proper and neglects her dreadfully, leaving her among the deadly vipers of court. If it were not for the fact that Arland would cry war if she were found mysteriously dead, I have no suspicions that she would be dead by now in order for a different lady to become Queen,_ her mother had whispered to her, as she combed Layla’s silky dark brown hair once. It was a ritual for them; every night, mother and daughter would take turns combing the other’s hair, and during the seemingly mundane activity, they would swap secrets.

That day, little was said about the love letters, but the entire afternoon was not a waste. Princess Nadia read a poem, and the ladies critiqued it. One said the poem was romantic to the point of absurdity, another claimed that romance itself was absurd. This led to a discussion of romance, of course.

“Love is what is needed for life!” declared one of the ladies.

“Your naiveté is hardly endearing,” countered another. “None of us nobles can afford to marry for love; not while we have duties and obligations to fulfil. Lives depend upon us; are we supposed to endanger them for a flight of whimsy?”

“A flight of whimsy!” There were horrified gasps among some of them. “How can you say that?”

“It isn’t love if you fall out of it less than two years later. Better you walk in with your eyes wide open into your marriage, with set expectations. Love is a trick designed to ruin us all. If you know exactly what to expect in a marriage, you shall never have cause to repine unless one of you violates that agreement.”

“What do our married sisters have to say about that? It’s a pity Princess Jaslen is not among us; I am sure she would be very enlightening on this subject.”

“Yes, she has been married far longer than any of us, and so happily too!”

 _That was a lie, if ever she heard one, _Layla thought, but was careful not to voice her opinion. Likely the other ladies already knew the truth anyway.

“Heaven protect us, there are other married princesses in the world. My dearest Princess Constance, what think you?”

Princess Constance merely smiled and remarked. “How can I say? I can only speak for myself; I cannot speak for my husband, nor other couples. I am sure every individual is different, and what may seem like sense for some may not be the same for the others. Love may also be interpreted differently for each person; for example, in Arland, to forsake your duty for your loved one is considered a folly, and your loved one is expected to grin and bear it. Is it any different here?”

“That sounds rather unromantic of Arland!” Cried one of the younger ladies.

“The world is unromantic in general,” Princess Nadia interjected. “But the right person can make it seem like the world is a flowering, wonderful place.”

“Sometimes the serpent hides behind the flower, though!” A different lady interrupted.

“How cynical! Princess Constance, surely you have read otherwise in our libraries, that love is a many splendoured thing, and that true love overcomes all? And if two lovers die, they meet in death and are never separated again?” Said another.

This led to a discussion of love stories in Corvallian literature. At the end of it all, Princess Constance laughed merrily. “I must say, Corvallians do have quite the imagination! Thank you, ladies. I will tell the last of the Arland retinue here that they must take care not to purchase novels here, lest our way of life is disrupted. Though, I wonder if the warning comes too late. Perhaps next year will find that the Arlish court will be overcome by _amour_! Although, perhaps such a disruption in the Arland way of thinking would be for the better…”

Princess Nadia smiled at the young princess. “Why, Princess Constance, quite the compliment! With acquainting yourself of the finest Corvallian literature, you shall see how passion and love is esteemed among us Corvallians, and how we believe that a beautifully worded poem can soften even the hardest of hearts.”

Lady Layla did her best to keep her gaze expressionless. Later that night, when preparing for bed, she combed her mother’s hair, and whispered, “Princess Constance believes in duty above all. Perhaps she is in love with the prince, and does not despise him for he holds Corval dearest above everything, as is his rightful duty.”

She did not add that she thought Princess Nadia might be in love with the author of the lovesick letters. That could be disastrous for the Princess, who could be punished severely for this transgression. She also did not want to think of what it could mean for the author himself. And anyway, she would not be surprised if the Empress was already aware of Princess Nadia's feelings; she likely already knew anyway, given that she had pointed out that Princess Nadia refused to be investigated on the topic of the lovesick letters. Instead, she added, “I know I am not the only one. Rest easy, mother.”

“The Empress’ lackeys have not delivered any letters to the Princess,” Lady Merve whispered softly to her daughter, kissing her forehead. They then retired to their own chambers, and as she lay in her bed, with only the moonlight streaming in to illuminate it, Layla thought to herself. Lack of receiving letters meant nothing if it wasn’t resolved already, and the Empress wouldn’t have asked for her assistance if they had stopped already. The Empress would know, as many servants had access to the Princess’ rooms, and she had no doubt that they were searching for stray letters.

This could only mean one of three things, neither of which was helpful right now, but could prove in handy in the future.

One: A servant wrote the letter and was dropping it within the rooms, not with the Princess’ official letters. If that was the case, it was unlikely to be a man, for no males were allowed in the Princess’ room. It was probable that the person writing was female, of course.

Two: A lady of the Inner Court wrote or delivered the letter. It would hardly be difficult for a lady to drop a letter into the room during Princess Nadia’s poetry reading sessions, after all. She wondered if this was something the Empress thought of, and concluded again that the Empress had a stroke of genius when she asked all Princess Nadia’s ladies to investigate the letters; if the issue remained unsolved, it was clear that one must be either assisting and thus sabotaging the investigation. That, or all the ladies were incompetent. In either case, she had grounds to dismiss one, or all, of the Corvallian ladies. None of the Corvallian ladies would want to be dismissed, and so they would all work hard to get to the bottom of this.

Three: A man or woman from outside of the Inner Court wrote the letter and either snuck around to deliver the letter, or used a servant or a lady of the Inner Court to deliver the letter. It was difficult to sneak around the palace (although not impossible, especially if the person had been trained to do so, and it was easy to blend in with servants, after all). Said person was likely residing within the city, probably within the palace, as the Princesses were hardly ever allowed to venture out from the palace, and if they did so, it would be under extreme supervision, even more so than the ladies. Also, to describe her figure so explicitly (as the gossips whispered scandalously), he would have to have been face to face with her.

The princesses were almost never in contact with men. The last time this happened was on Princess Constance’s wedding, when she was accompanied by a small group of men and women. It was a special occasion, and so the unmarried men and women were in the same room, a rare occasion in Corval, where these groups tended to be strictly segregated unless they were formally engaged or married. The unmarried Princesses and Ladies tended to congregate together, of course, although Princess Nadia, who was nearly the same age as the new bride, was allowed to accompany her in support. They met many people that night, Layla recalled, although no one particularly stood out. During the banquet, the Princess Constance was seated to the Emperor’s left, as the fourth most important in the room, while the Crown Prince sat to his right, as the third, after the Empress. Next to him sat the Princess Nadia, and their group was surrounded by some of the Arland nobility, while the job of entertaining the Corval nobility fell onto the Empress’ shoulders.

Perhaps it would be much easier if she could see the original letter, but how could she do so without inviting the princess’ ire? If it was easy, she could have pretended to be a servant, but eyes were sharp in the court, and she was not unrecognisable. She could have searched the room, but she was sure it would take far too long. And if the princess was in love with the author, she would keep the letter as close to her as possible. Either that, or lock it up, although locking things up was risky, because it could be easily broken into. No, it would be kept close to her; perhaps in a book of poetry or something, a book no one would suspect…

 

* * *

 

Occasionally, Crown Princess Constance would organise tea for the younger ladies of court. It was a very popular pastime, as many were curious about their foreign-born princess. Princess Constance was very pretty, and she could command attention when she willed. It was unsurprising, of course. She had been chosen from a very young age to be her country’s delegate, and had trained for it her entire life. It was unsurprising that she would be a perfect Princess.

“It’s a pity Princess Jaslen is not at court for another month, is it not?” One lady asked.

“Oh yes, I would love to hear what she thought of the summit,” another nodded.

“The summit was more than two months ago, though, and you have Her Royal Highness here to give a firsthand account!”

“Surely we can talk of something else? No disrespect to you, of course, Your Royal Highness.”

Princess Constance laughed merrily. “Why, none taken, my dear. I am always happy to speak of new topics.”

“How about Princess Nadia’s love letters?” One of the ladies smiled. The other ladies fluttered at this.

“Who could it be?”

“Surely the poem gives us some clues?”

“I’ve only heard of one which turned up less than two months ago… Do you mean there’s been more since then?”

“Oh honestly, and you claim to be from Corval?”

“Does anyone remember the first?”

“I have it right here,” declared one. “I found the form very strange indeed. Clearly the person who wrote it wasn’t a poet,” sniffed one of the ladies.

“Don’t be selfish! Share it!”

The lady with the poem looked conflicted. In her haste, to one-up her colleagues, she had given away her trump card, and now, if she wanted to remain in her fellow ladies’ good books, she would have to share the poem.

Amateur.

Slowly, the lady reached into her reticule, and picked it up from the bag.

“Princess Nadia would not be pleased to hear that you have stolen one of her letters,” Princess Constance rebuked softly.

“No,” the lady sighed. “But this is now unavoidable. I will not be able to salvage my reputation.”

“Yes, you can,” Princess Constance remarked. “Here, give me the letter. I’ll help you, and if _any_ of you other ladies threaten to gossip about this, she does not leave the palace alone.” 

Lady Layla took note of where Princess Constance hid the letter in a book. When it came time to leave, and the Princess was distracted by her guests, she successfully swiped the letter and hid it within her many skirts.

She immediately made her way to her chambers, heart racing, and once safely ensconced within, opened the letter.

_(I)_

_Though we are not alone, I see none but you._  
_You haunt my thoughts all day_  
_And I cannot sleep at night for wanting_  
_A woman so close, yet far away._

 _That night, you dressed in a gown of blue,_  
_And you looked like a fairy, a pure vision of loveliness._  
_I wished to hold you in my arms._  
_The mere thought of you leaves me breathless._

_(II)_

_I remember that fateful moment_  
_I met you, and lost my heart._  
_Your smile lit up brighter than the stars_  
_And I knew, I could never part_  
_From you. How can you not see_  
_That I love you so?_  
_You need not tell me our romance is doomed_  
_In many ways, I know._

 _I will never forget how you looked that night_  
_The curl of your lashes, the beauty of your gaze,_  
_The smile on your face, the silk of your hair,_  
_The perfection of your figure, your poise and your grace._  
_Your voice and your speech, so heavenly to hear_  
_Marks you as a paragon of your race._

_(III)_

_If I could embrace you, and you allowed me the liberty,_  
_A thousand times would I kiss you_  
_Your eyes, your lips, your neck_  
_Your décolletage, and worship you as lovers do_

 _Whether by night, or candlelight,_  
_Under the sun, in the middle of the day_  
_Or under the stars, near the sea_  
_It matters not where or when, my Princess, for in my heart, forever you’d stay._

 

The lady was right. This was a very foreign style of poetry, not to mention that the handwriting was strange to read, not like the usual Corvallian script. In fact, the penmanship _also_ looked as though it was written by a foreign hand. And there were words in the poem that suggested the author was not from Corval. Why would it be important to mention the Princess was a paragon of her race?

Unless…

The author was not from Corval. And if he was _not_ from Corval, he was likely from Arland. He probably met her during the nights of celebration, and became a most ardent admirer then. Princess Nadia had worn blue during the last banquet, when they were seated near the Arland nobility during the wedding celebrations, and looked every bit the exquisite beauty she was. The poet must have sat nearby, close enough to be enraptured by her beauty.

If the author was from Arland, it would explain the poor attempt at poetry and romance. After all, he was from a country not used to romance but duty above all else, even love. Princess Nadia likely had already figured out who he was, and perhaps this was why she was hesitant to let her mother interfere. She would not want to cause an international incident. Or she could be in love with the Arlander. Or both, it was not impossible. She tried to remember the retinue from Arland. Most of them comprised of elderly men and women, but there was a very handsome nobleman among them; a third son of a minor family from Arland. He _would_ be the most likely candidate. He would be able to bribe one of the  _many_ servants. Or he could use his relationship with Princess Constance to his benefit, although this seemed unlikely, given that the princess appeared to be a stickler for duty (although she really couldn't judge; perhaps the Corvallian court was teaching her a different way of life). She was unsure of what training young noblemen in Arland underwent, and perhaps he was stealthy enough to sneak around and leave her love letters, but it didn't matter now. She was almost sure he was the author of this letter, and likely many others. All she would need was a confession.

If only there was a way to avoid any unnecessary punishments...

That night, she whispered to her mother, “One of the ladies tried to steal the Princess’ letter, but was scolded into good behaviour by the other Princess, who took it from her.”

Her mother whispered back, “Take care, child. The Empress grows impatient as the Princess is careless.”

 

* * *

 

The next day, she invited Princess Constance for a walk. Princess Constance looked as pretty as a picture in her dress, even though she did not look Corvallian in the slightest. Lady Layla could not help but admire her for her strength of character. Though she looked wan, she made a good attempt at hiding any signs of discontent.

“I must thank you for this, Lady Layla. It is very kind of you to think of me. I am sure you have many duties to fulfil.”

“It can only be a pleasure, Your Royal Highness. How are you settling into Corval?”

“Corval is very beautiful, of course, and the food is a wonder for the senses! I did not think I could taste anything as delicious as from the Isle, but here I am mistaken, yet again!”

“The food is wonderful indeed, Your Royal Highness, but then, I am biased. I am grateful for your admiration though. I have had little opportunity to leave the Palace, except for before you came, when we were taken outside of the country to familiarise ourselves with Arland… at least the coast. I… I was lost there, but it seemed so wonderful.”

Layla did not think it wise to tell Princess Constance that she had purposefully separated herself from her guides, as this could most definitely be used against her. Not here, at this stage. Perhaps if they were closer friends, but Princess Constance did her duty, and not much of anything else, it seemed.

However, the topic of her homeland seemed to inspire Princess Constance. Her eyes sparkled, her features grew animated and she begged her to tell what she loved most about Arland. “I hardly ever left the palace, but the countryside was beautiful, when we were required to travel throughout the country to help solve disputes. Hills of green, swift coursing rivers… It is not as metropolitan as Corval, but it is a wonderful place.” She grew sombre. “I surprise myself sometimes, with how much I miss it. I fear I will the loneliness will really start to settle when the rest of the Arland retinue returns.”

Lady Layla took her arm and patted it. “I think home is a place you make for yourself. Why, perhaps someday you will wax romantic about the high walls of the City Palace, or the bustling noises of the city below, or the water gardens here and the courtyard.”

This drew a laugh from Princess Constance.

“And if anything, I suppose I can write home and tell my family about my life in the mysterious and exotic country of Corval.” She looked at Lady Layla appraisingly. “Do you know, Lady Layla, you are nearly of an age with my younger sister?”

Layla looked at her curiously. “What is your sister like?”

Princess Constance smiled at her indulgently. “Dutiful and well-behaved.” She sighed. “Princesses of Arland are treated very much the same as Princesses of Corval, actually. Duty is paramount. We are not allowed to do anything that breaches our duty. As such, we are not allowed to leave the palace, but spend every waking hour learning and studying for the inevitable summit. In this way, we were quite sheltered growing up. I imagine Corval does it for different reasons? At least before marriage, for many of the married princesses and ladies appear to have a greater amount of freedom.”

Here they were heading into dangerous territory. “I imagine,” Layla began softly, “that it is because women in Corval are supposedly jewels incomparable, and so we are locked away so none covet us. There are rare occasions where we are in public, but always heavily guarded. There are always eyes watching anyway, so we must always be on our best behaviour.” She gave the princess an arch look. “Surely you’ve noticed this yourself, Your Royal Highness.”

Her answer was a peal of laughter. “My dearest Lady Layla, I am sure you are always on your best behaviour.”

Here Layla could not help but grimace, drawing some concern from the princess, who looked at her worriedly. “Lady Layla?”

She had still been holding the princess’ arms, and slipped the letter into the princess’ hands. Princess Constance’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything, Layla interrupted her. “Why, look at the roses, we must go and see them!” She cried, and nearly forgetting decorum, almost dragged the princess to the roses. “I am sorry,” she began, in a careful whisper, minimising the movements of their lips. “But I have to tell you; the nobleman in your retinue, the young, handsome one, he plays a dangerous game.”

Constance smiled widely, but it did not reach her eyes; she realised the significance of the conversation. That, or she finally wised up to the fact that there was someone following them, and in addition, two or three servants near the path, hidden by some hedges. “Let us smell them, Lady Layla!” In a whisper, under the guise of both of them smelling flowers, she added, “What do you mean?”

“Only a fool would read the letters and not realise the writer was from Arland. His penmanship, his poetry, the things he writes of – they all give him away. My guess is that his sorry attempt at poetry has been successful in securing the Princess’ affections, but the Empress is gathering evidence against him. At the moment, this is mostly conjecture, and my guess is that at some stage, they’ll gather enough evidence to take him in for questioning. He _needs_ to stop, or he’ll really cause a diplomatic accident. The Royal Family does not like it when their daughters enter unsanctioned relationships.” She stood up and added loudly, “Why, Your Royal Highness, you are right! I declare, there is nothing more splendid than the scent of flowers. Perhaps, if Her Majesty gives me permission, we could attempt to make potpourri?”

“That is a capital idea, Lady Layla.” More quietly, she added, “It would seem suspicious now, if they were all to leave so suddenly.”

“Come now, perhaps we should smell the others.” They reached a patch of orchids, and she whispered, “Well, then, I can help there. No one would blame it if his house had an emergency. You can enlighten him at a later stage, and tell him better he was parted from the Princess by distance, rather than death.”

Princess Constance nodded. After traversing around the garden several times, pretending to smell flowers, they took their leave from each other, and Lady Layla penned a letter, which she delivered to the nobleman’s quarters, taking the necessary precautions to avoid as though it came from her.

Because it was only the single nobleman, and not the whole of the Arland retinue, none found it suspicious when he left, particularly as he had received some distressing news regarding his family. Princess Constance sneaked in his last letter, more subtly worded this time, and not mentioning any details of going away, a week after he left, in a (perhaps futile) attempt to throw off suspicion from the Empress’ spies.

The night his last letter was sent, Lady Layla whispered to her mother, as Lady Merve combed her hair, “There will be no more letters.”

Lady Merve stopped brushing her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Is that so?” she asked. “What will you tell the Queen?”

“The truth,” she said honestly. “That as soon as I caught wind of who the poet was, he escaped the palace. I cannot prove it, but if she was to interrogate her daughter, she will find that the last time a letter was received would be tonight. She can continue having the servants search the room, but I assure you, if any other letter turns up, it will be a copycat, and not the true author.”

“I see. And are you happy to have solved the mystery?”

Lady Layla shrugged, knowing better than to display her true emotions. Her mother might disapprove of what she thought, after all. In her mind, it was a rather melancholy affair, when it came down to it. Duty above all. Politics above love. The Corval court was a theatre of plots, and they were all players in this farcical production. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, do you know how difficult it is to add layers to Corval conversations and hope people get it? Far out. I needed it to be subtle, but for everyone to also pick up the hints. I'm not sure how well it went.
> 
> Also, I made the poet a foreigner, because how would a teenager organise all this without the Empress knowing if she didn't have help? (You can be sure this won her points with Constance.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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